The saying was telling about man’s selfishness, his cruelty. It talked about how he had taken nature for granted while he dug his own grave, planned his own death.
I am not a romantic by all means. Yet that very saying has developed a passion in me I never thought I was capable of having. That passion slowly bordered to a need to do something so you could somewhat alleviate the pain that comes along with it.
The more I see venues so I could let these frustrations—yes, though I can’t stop it, the passion has developed a mind of its own and became frustrations (the plural, exactly)—out, the more I become happier. And the more I am happier, the greater the feeling to do more. And the greater my feeling to do more, the more I become frustrated. It is that vicious a cycle, but I stopped caring since I know it will be the same cycle which would continue to motivate me.
The cycle, along with the saying, will keep me caring. I was more than glad that the cycle in me was still alive in my system when I started planting the first mangrove propagule in my life.
I have never planted a mangrove propagule before. I was eager—typical reaction of a human when she encounters an adventure—but there was something more that I felt. Maybe because I know we are embarking on a journey which would later on help a lot of people in the next generation. This isn't self-righteousness—this is just the purest feeling a woman would have if she was brought up in a school that taught students how to simply care and serve without asking for anything in return.
What I really love about the activity is that even if it was just an activity, it was a miniature of a dream I wish we could have. That people set their differences aside and started working hand in hand for a change. I never heard anyone complain. I only see a mirage of colors swirling to form one full image of hope. The idea that the people who attended the activity knew what they were doing—thus taking the activity seriously—only made me feel better.
The experience was worth a lifetime. The feeling I've felt holding the tiny green plant that would soon grow into a sturdy tree was unexplainable. To think that each of us has planted twenty possible sturdy trees—it may not mean much, but it still means something. That feeling, it was like I was holding something special. It was like I was holding another life, a possible hope for the future.
It may sound so melodramatic a line but this is my own conviction and my own mantra—if people continue to think that their every single act will do nobody no good, they will never get anywhere. That activity taught me a lot—you need to feel, you need to care before you could do anything. You need to know what you are doing. You need to know that what you'll be doing will affect someone or even something, and that's a reality we can't escape. Sometimes we think that we are the only species living in this world. From firsthand experience, we always think that a tiny act is nothing but a tiny act, that it could not destroy a thriving species, that it could not obliterate the forests, that it could not suffocate the atmosphere with smog. But we don't own nature, and the more we have no right to abuse it and leave our co-inhabitants suffering because of what we did. That is simply not fair. For once, we must have the knack to at least feel responsible and do something.
For once, we at least care for the others, not just ourselves. Be concerned and aware of the growing issues of the environment, and not just keep on turning a blind eye to anything. Ignorance is not always bliss, it is more of a stepping stone for conscience.
The activity did not disappoint me in any means possible, because I know that what we have done has a cause. I did not even think about the challenges and the setbacks—for I couldn't see any; maybe just a little wish to God that there are more people who simply cared. And that there are more projects which would advocate for the same cause. If a lot more people would help and know about this, who knows? It will really mean more.
I know that this is an activity that was blessed from the very beginning. But I am hoping that this sort of beginning will not turn out to be a happily ever after yet.
We still have so much more to do to think that it would end as easily and simply as that of a fairy tale. We still have things to do. We still have years to fill. It may not be just a happily ever after, for there is so much more than that. Activities like these are more beginnings than endings, a beginning of a brighter future ahead.
